Her Mad Dragon (Dragon Guard Series Book 15) (3 page)

The need to be near her, to touch her, to have her touch
him, was overwhelming. His dragon pushed against the confines of his mind,
chuffing and pawing the ground. The beast wanted his mate as much as the man.
Need won out over good intentions. Maddox quickly made his way around the
lake’s bank, never once taking his eyes from the beauty of his little witch.

The time had come. It was now or never. The Universe had
given him a gift. Who was he, her lowly servant, to refuse such a prize?

With silent footsteps so as not to disturb her, Maddox
approached his mate. Turning her head, she gasped as he knelt beside her, the
frightened look in her eyes immediately changing to one of intrigue and if he wasn’t
mistaken, more than a little uncertainty. His heart ached, for he knew he’d put
that doubt in her mind. Understanding filled his being with divine knowledge.
It was time to make things right.

“Hey there,” was the only thing he could think of to say. The
moment it was out of his mouth, the mad dragon wished for a do-over, but the
look in Calysta’s eyes and the smile that brightened her face said it all. It
didn’t matter what he said. It only mattered that he was there.

“Hey,” she answered, sending chills up and down his spine.

He reached for her hand and together they gasped at the
spark of recognition their skin-to-skin contact created. Maddox could only
imagine what it would be like to touch every inch of her perfectly porcelain
skin. Calysta’s smile turned to a sly grin as soon as the thought crossed his
mind.

“Guess I better get better at shielding,”
he spoke
directly into her mind.

Her chuckle sounded like the breeze caressing the wind
chimes that had hung outside his mother’s cottage. It was pure and melodic and
sang to his heart. When she spoke through their unique link, both man and
dragon felt a sense of purpose.
“No need, I like hearing your thoughts.”

Rubbing his thumb across the back of her hand, Maddox took a
deep breath and said the words he’d waited far too long to speak. Unable to
look in her eyes as he apologized, the mad dragon focused on a particularly
uninspiring bunch of weeds just over her shoulder. “Calysta, I’m sorry. I know
this isn’t what you want. Hell,
who
would want to spend eternity with
me? There are days I wish I could get away.” He scoffed sarcastically and
looked at their joined hands.

“But I’ve tried to stay away and that’s just not working. I
thought it was a mistake. I mean, the Universe really has some sense of humor,
right?” He paused to see if she would answer. Wondered if she was still
listening. Then finally gave up and slowly lifted his eyes to look at her face.

What he saw had him torn between kissing her silly and
turning her over his knees. Calysta was trying as hard as he’d ever seen anyone
try to keep from laughing. She was biting her bottom lip and trying to hold her
breath, but she couldn’t stop the twinkle in her eyes or the bounce of her
shoulders.

“You little scamp,” he teased before giving into his own fit
of merriment, which turned the Priestess’ silent giggles into full blown
laughter. It was the best moment he’d shared with anyone in his very long life
and suddenly, everything in his crazy world made sense. The Elders had been
right - Fate will not be denied.

It took several minutes for the couple’s amusement to die
down. Catching his breath, Maddox tried to go on, “What I really…”

But Calysta immediately interrupted. Placing her index
finger on his still moving lips, his little witch raised her eyebrows and
leveled her gaze. “Stop right there, Maddox MacQueen, I’ve had enough doubts
for both of us. All the fears, all the worries, all the holding back and
thinking you hated me; it all ends right here, right now. Ya’ got it?”

He didn’t even try to stop the grin that covered his face.
His little witch had sass and attitude. She was used to getting what she wanted
and not having to ask twice.

Thank the Heavens, she wants me.

Unable to hold back any longer, Maddox slammed his lips to
hers. Their connection solidified. The elusive piece of his soul he’d been
searching for his whole life slid into place. The dragon within roared with
delight. Man and beast found their mate and she was absolute perfection.

Chapter Three

Two Months later

“What the hell is the matter with you? Do you
really
not remember me? How’s that even possible? Shit like that does
no
t
really happen.” Mumbling to himself, “Fine mess, Maddox old boy, it’s a fine
mess you’ve landed yourself in.”

He looked for any sign of the man he’d known over a century
ago in the gaunt, battered body of the madman who paced and mumbled to himself
in a mix of Gaelic and English that sounded more like gobbledygook than actual
words. Kyran had always been so well-groomed and the one among them most likely
to draw a young woman’s attention. His long dark hair was always fashionably
pulled back with a leather cord, beard and mustache trimmed to within an inch
of their existence, and his clothing the latest in fashion with an impeccable
fit. Times had definitely changed…and not in a positive way.

The person Maddox now watched rant and rave bore no
resemblance to the brethren he’d known a century ago, neither in looks nor
dress. Hair dirty and matted with dried blood, dirt and leaves. His body a mass
of scars, both old and new, oozing wounds, bruises in every variation of
yellow, green, blue and purple, and strange tattoos surrounding his dragon
marking that Maddox knew he’d seen before but in his present state, simply
couldn’t place.

Kyran’s jeans were ripped and bloodied as well as too large
in the waist and at least three inches too short. Obviously something he’d
‘borrowed’ after his harrowing escape. His feet and hands were so damaged from
either torture or by his own actions that they hardly looked human. His fingers
and toes were gnarled, some missing the nails. Long red welts decorated the
tops of all four appendages just barely disguising more scars and bruises.
Maddox wondered why the black dragon’s beast had not healed the damage, then
wondered if something else was at work within his old friend.

Making what had to be his hundredth pass in front of Maddox
while swinging his sword and pounding his forehead with the heel of his free
hand, the black dragon mumbled, “
A fháil ar bhealach amach
. Find a way
baile
.”

The continual switch between and Gaelic and English was
giving Maddox a headache, not to mention all the blood rushing to his head
while he hung suspended by his feet. 

And they call me the mad dragon…

“I swear to all that is holy if this is some kind of prank,
I
will
kick your ass and leave you for dead, Kyran O’Connor. I’m not
above it and no one knows that better than you.”

At the sound of Maddox’s growled threat, Kyran stopped, spun
on heels, and stared at the mad dragon with a look of shock and confusion. For
a split second, Maddox saw a glimmer of recognition. He opened his mouth to
speak but immediately held his tongue as the dark, haunted veil slid back over
Kyran’s onyx eyes and he hissed, “
Shealbhú do Demon theanga
,” raising
his sword as if to decapitate the mad dragon before abruptly doing an
about-face and returning to his pace and ramble routine.

Demon? Did that asshole just call me a demon? He’s the
one they called the Phantom.

Trussed up like Kyran’s latest kill, hanging upside-down
from a thick lava tube jutting from the cave wall, bound at the wrists and
ankles, Maddox struggled to loosen his ropes. Calling to the dragon within, the
mad dragon focused on the tips of his fingers, willing the talons of his beast to
appear. Cursing under his breath when only the faintest tingling sensation
warmed his hands, Maddox finally had to admit to himself that the cave was
under a dampening spell. Denial was doing nothing but giving him a splitting
headache and making him even more angry.

Sneaking off into the night without a word to anyone had
been stupid. Closing himself off from not only his brethren but also Calysta
had been even stupider. But what made the mad dragon feel like the Grand
Poohbah of idiots was that he’d refused to call for help while being held at
the end of Kyran’s sword on the side of the mountain. Rule one: never get taken
into an enclosed area before calling for help.

I really should practice what I preach, dammit…

For some stupid reason, Maddox believed he could get through
to his brethren, bring Kyran back from whatever trauma he’d suffered, and get
him home where Niall and Calysta could work their healing magic on him. He’d
used the old technique of ‘befriending your captor’ and had gone along like a
willing prisoner. It was only now that he wanted to kick his own ass and save
his mate the trouble. Shaking his head and immediately wishing he hadn’t as his
vision blurred and his brain threatened to explode, the mad dragon tried to
think of how it had all gone so wrong.

The plan had been solid. Heavens knew it should’ve been
after over a month of preparation. It had all started the day of Calysta and
his dragon mating ceremony. He’d been waiting in the wings for his mate to
appear in the Garden of Serenity when Kyran’s voice sounded in the far recesses
of his mind. The mumblings were incoherent at first, as if the Phantom were
talking to himself instead of Maddox. There was resignation in the black
dragon’s voice, as if he was accepting his fate. 

Maddox stood still, listening to his old friend’s ramblings,
trying to make out every word when Kayne shouted through their unique link,
“It’s
your party, asshole. Get out here. Your beautiful mate is waiting.”

Without thought of his surroundings and trying not to give
anything away, the mad dragon snapped back,
“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That voice.”

“I heard nothing but the sound of Calysta reconsidering
her harebrained scheme to mate your mangy ass. Maybe I should tell her that
you’ve finally officially lost your last marble and I’m free to be your
stand-in.”
Kayne laughed.

“
Well hell,”
Maddox growled, still listening to Kyran
while he raced from behind the flowering bushes into the waiting crowd.

One look at Calysta in her light blue gown with her long
strawberry-blonde locks piled atop her head and the look of love in her eyes,
chased all thoughts of lost dragons and rescue attempts from his mind. Maddox’s
only thoughts were of mating his gorgeous mate.

After the ceremony, they’d eaten and danced the night away.
Kyra, Calysta’s daughter, and the other girls had done a great job with the
reception, or so he was told, because the appeal of anything other than whiskey
and food he could eat with his hands was completely lost on the former recluse.
After two hours of cajoling and ultimately begging Calysta to leave, he’d
finally whisked her away to the mountain retreat he’d called home for almost a
century.

They’d consummated their union in ways not even he could’ve
ever imagined, which was saying something considering how close to
two-hundred-and-twenty-five years old he was getting. Maddox admitted over and
over to himself, his mate, and the Universe how truly blessed he was to no
longer be alone. The old hermit dragon had once and for all been domesticated.

To make matters worse, at least he grumbled like he was
being descaled, Calysta had somehow worked her ‘magic’ on him. With a lot of
love and a few well-placed nudges, his little witch had him packing up
everything he owned and returning to the civilization of the clan and the lair.

He’d put up a good fight, at least on the surface. Had
complained as every book, pot, pan, and knick-knack went into the box while
smiling on the inside at the beautiful gift of Calysta he’d been given. It was
what she wanted, so it was what he did. Making her happy was all that mattered.
Not once in all that time did he think about Kyran or voices in his head. The
mad dragon and his Grande Priestess were in a world all their own…peaceful and
happy.

On their return to the lair of the Blue Thunder Clan, the
mad dragon took serious abuse from his brethren about being ‘whipped by his
mate’. Even his oldest friend, Kayne, had chuckled and teased, “You
can
teach an old dragon new tricks.” The mad dragon vowed revenge with a twinkle in
his eye and evil thoughts dancing in his head.

All thoughts of Kyran gone and forgotten, life as a mated
dragon was rolling along really well. He’d even used the word bliss in
reference to their relationship, made his little witch breakfast in bed on two
occasions, and brought home flowers almost every day. To say Calysta was taming
him was a monumental understatement.

Then, as had always been the case of existence, life smacked
the mad dragon in the back of the head with a two-by-four. While mindlessly
painting the dining room some light blue color Calysta and Della had deemed
‘perfect for their color story’ (whatever the hell that meant), the Phantom’s
voice sounded, loud and clear, into Maddox’s mind, complete with the mad
dragon’s obnoxious nickname from his youth.

“Doxie… Doxie, you there? Did we get the bastard?”

Acting on pure instinct, Maddox immediately responded,
“Kyran?
Where are you?”

“Rendezvous point alpha.”

The mad dragon frantically searched his memory for any
mission where that had been their final destination and came up with only one.
The one they’d all tried to forget. The one where they’d lost not only the
people they were trying to rescue but one of their own. Their victory at
destroying a Wizard Leader had been hollow and grief-ridden on that day.

Pushing back the memories, trying not to waste what might be
his only opportunity to locate his old friend, Maddox quickly replied,
“Yes,
we got him. How many for extraction?”

“One.”

Before Maddox could respond, anger and frustration filled
the bond between brethren with a fiery vehemence and Kyran shouted in Gaelic,
“Saoire
dom spiorad. Crá dom nach bhfuil níos mó,”
before he cut their connection
and completely disappeared
.

The mad dragon searched his mind for any trace of his
reignited connection to his old friend and found the path gone, wiped from
existence as if it had never been. Waiting, he barely took a breath as he
prayed Kayne would holler at him to say the demi god had also heard Kyran. The
three of them had been thick as thieves in their younger days. Maddox knew
Kyran would reach out to Kayne, as well as him. Couldn’t imagine the Phantom
wouldn’t call the demi-god for help, but the longer he waited to hear from
Kayne, the more deafening the silence became. 

The thought of calling Drago rolled through his mind before
being dismissed. The Assassin would’ve let them know if he’d heard from Kyran.
Besides, both Maddox and Kayne had agreed to let Drago and his mate enjoy their
time away. There was no need to bother them until they either found Kyran or he
raised so much hell that they needed to bring his Commander in to make the hard
calls.

Rolling the paint over the same strip of wall for at least
the tenth time, Maddox also debated whether he had once and for all lost his
mind. Of course, that was only wishful thinking. Kyran
had
spoken to
him. There was no denying it and no ignoring it. The dragon they’d all called
the Phantom for his extraordinary way of ‘killing without touching’ was back
and most definitely not in his right mind. Kyran was a hazard to himself and
anyone he deemed a threat. Hell, there were some cases in which he’d been
several miles away when an adversary had simply dropped dead and that was when
he was sane and focused; it was unfathomable what he could do in his present
state.

At the time, in his gullible youth, Maddox believed Kyran’s
special abilities were a magical gift. Had thanked the Universe for his
friend’s keen skill in battle. Having now experienced the mind-melting screech
the Phantom could blast into anyone’s brain at will, the mad dragon doubted the
‘gift’ part of Kyran’s super power, only sure that he never
ever
wanted
to experience it again.

Maddox spent the next week searching for the Phantom without
his mate or anyone else finding out, which had proven easier said than done. He
was out of practice when it came to shielding his thoughts, especially where
Calysta was concerned. He’d never had or been a mate before. Had never known
what it was like to truly share himself – body, mind, and soul – with another.
Ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the time it was the best feeling in the
world. It was that pesky point-one percent when he was trying to keep secrets
that made him wish for the solitude of his cave.

If his little witch had asked once she’d asked him twenty
times what was wrong; each time with more intensity and more animation. It was
cute to watch her talk with her hands but only when she was complaining about
someone or something else. During one such ‘interrogation’, she’d sighed so
hard he worried she might just deflate. Maddox was sure she’d test the limits
of their bond to ease her curiosity but was pleasantly surprised when she
didn’t. Through it all, Calysta respected his privacy and trusted him. On one
hand it was a great feeling, on the other, he now wished she’d been nosey.  

Had to get a witch with a conscience, didn’t I? Gotta
love the Universe’s sense of humor…

 
After ten days without a peep from the Phantom and
no way to contact him or track him, Maddox settled back into mated life and
thought little about his old friend. He decided life would go on with or
without Kyran and returned one hundred percent of his focus to Calysta and
their future together.

Life with his mate was never boring. Tasks, that a few
months ago he would’ve thrown a fit about performing, were fun with his little
witch by his side. Even home décor had its finer points.